


Dance With Me

by SassyInkPen



Category: due South
Genre: Blow Jobs, Dancing, First Time, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-24
Updated: 2014-04-24
Packaged: 2018-01-20 14:46:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1514330
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SassyInkPen/pseuds/SassyInkPen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kowalski pushes the issue when the sexual tension between him and Vecchio gets too strong. Vecchio is ready for him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dance With Me

 

Somewhere on the south side of Chicago, late in the evening after a routine drug bust, when the uniforms had hauled away all the punks, and the dust and the nighttime gloom were settling around them, Ray shoved Vecchio up against the side of a brick building and got right in his face.

"You and me, Vecchio," he said, crushing the lapels of Vecchio's suit jacket. "It's time we dealt with whatever this is between us, because I’m tired of playin' games. And don't say you don't know what I’m talking about."

Vecchio's breath was heavy, but his body calm and still. "I know what you're talking about. I'm not denying it's there, either."

The underlying current of sex and attraction between them was as strong in that moment as it ever had been, and a shiver ran up Ray's spine. That was saying a lot because it had been two weeks of steamy glances, innuendo, and barely there flirtations meant to be noticed only by each other. And tension. So much tension. He couldn't remember how it started, but he knew damn well how he wanted it to end.

"So, what about it?"

"Yeah. Yes. But this isn't how it should go," Vecchio said. The undisguised lust and promise in his eyes made Ray's mouth go dry. "Let's take this back to your place, then I'll show you how it should be."

"Sure, okay." Ray felt weak in the knees. "Okay."

Vecchio pushed him a few steps back, to get away from the wall, and then steered him toward the car.

Ray didn't even really register the drive. It was a blur with a constant litany playing in his head. _Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck. Fuck, yes. Oh, fuck._

He finally got his wits back when Vecchio pulled open the passenger door and said, "You coming?"

To which Ray replied, "Not yet, ha, ha."

Vecchio rolled his eyes and turned to head up the steps. Ray was pretty sure he heard him mutter _Oh my God_ as Ray followed him inside.

By the time they reached his floor, Ray had gotten his shit more or less back together and he passed Vecchio in the hall so he could unlock the door and usher him in. Just because Vecchio used up pretty much all the cool in the world, didn't mean he couldn't try.

Vecchio didn't say a word. He just slipped off his jacket and hung it on a chair, all slow and quiet purpose. He smoothed the front of his vest and walked over to the shelves, selecting a CD pretty easily and sliding it into the player. A sultry Leonard Cohen song filled the air. Ray couldn't think of anything more appropriate for the circumstances. He approached Vecchio and pressed up against him, mouthing hot kisses along his jawline. When Vecchio's hands came to rest on his hips and pull him closer, Ray let his lust take control and he was all lips and tongue and hands, nipping at Vecchio's skin and tugging on his clothes.

"Wait. Wait. No," Vecchio said, catching Ray's wrists in his hands.

"What do you mean, _no?"_ Ray panted, twisting in his grip.

"Slow down." Vecchio's voice was dark silk as he slid an arm around Ray's waist and nudged him into the middle of the living room with his hips. "Slow down. We've got all night."

"We've been playin' cat and mouse for two weeks and you wanna dance?"

"I thought you liked dancing."

"I do when my thoughts aren't all focused on my dick."

"Then I suggest you refocus your thoughts, because we're gonna dance."

"Jesus, Vecchio." How the hell was he supposed to refocus his thoughts when Vecchio was pushing all his buttons.

Ray played nice and danced his best game for a few minutes, then he tried to steer Vecchio toward the sofa. He was working a little extra bump and grind into his moves, and he was pretty sure Vecchio got the message when he paused and stared right into Ray's eyes, all heat and power.

"Stop it," Vecchio said. He was an immovable force, one hand still raised with Ray's and the other resting on the small of Ray’s back.

"Vecchio, come on, man. If you think my moves are good on the dance floor, wait until I get you into bed."

A soft smile played across Vecchio's face and then he crowded Ray into the bookcase, thrusting a hand up under his chin. His fingers dug into Ray's throat just enough. Not a threat, only a hint. He spoke like velvet covered steel, and there was a sharp glint in his eye.

"Trust me, Kowalski, I am gonna give you everything you want. _Everything_. But you're gonna give me what I want, too." He shifted to stroke his thumb across Ray's lower lip.

"Ah. Yeah. All right."

It hadn't been a question, and Ray didn't have to answer, but he needed a way to force some air out of his lungs. He was so turned on, he could barely function. Vecchio could be stone cold and ultra smooth at the same time, and this wasn't the Bookman stare, this was the real deal. People who thought Armondo Langostini was dark and dangerous had no idea who they were really dealing with.

Vecchio moved closer and leaned in to kiss Ray's neck, hot breath wafting over his skin. He ground his erection into Ray's hip and exhaled slowly. The same promise in physical form. Ray would have slid to the floor if Vecchio wasn't holding him up.

"Now," Vecchio said, easing back, his voice barely a whisper, "dance with me."

Ray nodded and fell into step with him, mesmerized. It occurred to him that he may have misjudged exactly what Vecchio was after. And wasn't _that_ a kick in the head.

After two songs, during which Vecchio maintained his quiet intensity and Ray nearly came unraveled, Vecchio reached between them and undid Ray's belt buckle, slowly, methodically. He did the same with Ray's jeans and never stopped dancing the whole time. Kept a hand on Ray's back, and didn't miss a step. Ray, on the other hand, faltered, and when he started to pull his hands away to assist in the whole getting naked process, Vecchio said, "No. You stay right where you are."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean," Vecchio said, pushing Ray's boxers out of the way and wrapping long fingers around Ray's cock, "put your hands back where they go and dance with me."

Ray flushed and swallowed hard, squeezing his eyes shut against the onslaught of sensation. "Are you fucked in the head? I can't dance with you doing that."

"Sure you can."

There was a hint of amusement in Vecchio's voice, but there was also a breathlessness that went straight to Ray's groin. Whatever this was, it had Vecchio going just as much as Ray. Okay, then.

Ray started to move with the music again, each step sending waves of pleasure up his dick and through his body. He clutched Vecchio's shoulders, panting, and tried to remember the steps. Fortunately, Vecchio had him close and steered him in the right direction. He tried to thrust into Vecchio's hand, but that just fucked things up.

"You let me worry about that," Vecchio purred in his ear as he executed a slow turn and squeezed his hand at the same time. "I won't let you down."

"Fuck this is hot," Ray gasped.

"Yeah, it is."

Vecchio nuzzled the side of his face and placed open mouthed kisses along his jawline, just the slightest hint of teeth grazing every now and then. All the while, he slowly stroked Ray's cock, matching the pace of the music and their footsteps. Ray moaned out loud and Vecchio echoed it back to him, just as throaty and desperate as if it was his own dick getting worked over.

It didn’t take long before Ray was right on the edge, shaky, and only barely able to stay on his feet. Vecchio pulled him even closer, crooned something Italian against his neck, and sped up just enough. Ray came hard and fast, swearing wantonly and burying his face in Vecchio’s shoulder. He knees sagged under him, but he managed to hold on. When he could see straight again, he grabbed Vecchio and kissed him, wet and hard and hungry.

He gave Vecchio a little shove and said, “Now it’s your turn, and we do things _my_ way.”

Vecchio raised an eyebrow, but he was flushed and panting, and Ray wanted to see him lose all that carefully cultivated cool. Sure, he lost his shit all the time at work, but that was different, and this time Ray wanted to take him apart.

He grabbed Vecchio by the collar and pulled him into a heated kiss, during which he systematically stripped Vecchio of his vest, his shirt and his undershirt. Ray stepped back and gave an approving nod as he ran the backs of his fingers down Vecchio’s bare stomach. Vecchio shivered and sucked in his breath. He watched Ray with curious eyes, maybe just the smallest hint of wariness.

Ray reached for Vecchio’s belt and leaned in to lick the edge of his ear. "You're not gonna know your own name when I’m finished with you."

"Oh, _yeah_ ," Vecchio groaned, sliding his hands along Ray's neck and kissing him eagerly.

Ray didn't bother with taking Vecchio's pants off. He just shoved them down to mid-thigh before he backed Vecchio up to the sofa and made him sit. Ray stood there between his splayed knees, looking down. Vecchio made a hell of a picture with his dark eyes and parted lips and straining cock, and Ray told him so.

"So, come on," Vecchio urged.

Ray peeled off his own shirt and threw it on the floor, then sunk easily to his knees, smirking when Vecchio’s breath hitched and he licked his lips. Ray slid his hands up Vecchio's thighs, leaning forward to kiss his stomach, lick a patch of smooth skin, suck a nipple. Vecchio arched toward him, and at the same time raised his hips trying to get any attention at all on his dick, even if it was just an accidental brush.

Ray pushed him back down, saying, "Now _you_ gotta stay where you are and let _me_ take care of things."

Vecchio groaned with frustration. "Keep in mind that I've been in this state a lot longer than you."

"'Cause you had to be in charge," Ray said, hovering just above Vecchio's dick with a long, slow exhale.

"Oh, fuck. _Please_."

The desperation in Vecchio's voice was the chink in the armor he'd been looking for, and Ray rewarded him with a wet lick all the way up the length of his cock. Vecchio swore in Italian and nearly jerked right up off the sofa.

"Damn, Vecchio," Ray said, stroking him, "you're gonna be _fun_."

He took Vecchio in his mouth, and relished the deep, shuddering groan he got out of him. Ray had some skills in this department and he put every single one of them to work, licking, sucking or nibbling Vecchio in all the right places. And Vecchio wasn't silent for any of it. Most of it was moans and swear words, but even when he did nothing but breathe, it was thick and ragged. All the while, Vecchio's hands were restless, curling and uncurling his fingers. Every so often he'd rest one on Ray's shoulder, but only for a moment.

Ray glanced up to find Vecchio watching him with glassy eyes and a completely unguarded expression. His stomach did a backflip. He paused to lick a flat tongue up Vecchio's cock and said, "You don't gotta be all hands off, you know. I'm not real delicate, and you won't do anything I can't handle."

"Jesus," breathed Vecchio. He reached a hand out, but hesitated until Ray gave him a nod, then he buried his fingers in Ray's hair.

"Yeah," Ray groaned, leaning into the touch. "That's it."

He turned his attention back to Vecchio's cock, taking him in and performing a few acrobatics with his tongue. Almost immediately, Vecchio's other hand drifted down, caressing Ray's face, trailing a finger along his lip as he sucked Vecchio off, urging him on. Ray narrowed his focus as Vecchio got closer, and took note of Vecchio on the edge. Trembling legs, incoherent moans, and those restless hands again.

This time Vecchio would touch, but it was obvious he was holding back. Ray figured what he really wanted to do was shove Ray's head all the way down. No one with half a brain actually did that, though, so Ray did it for him. He took Vecchio in as far as he could and got one hell of a rush when Vecchio slid a hand around the back of his neck and held him there, groaning loud enough to wake the neighbors. He threw his head back and came hard, thrusting his hips erratically and gasping a string of curses and praise, including Ray's name. Twice.

As he got back under control, Vecchio eased up on Ray’s neck, but didn’t take his hand away. Ray was content to stay where he had him, and let his eyes drift shut when Vecchio starting running his fingers through Ray’s hair. After a minute, Vecchio’s hands went away and Ray looked up at him.

“My God,” Vecchio said, wilting back into the cushions. “That was…”

Ray crawled forward, skin on skin, to whisper in Vecchio’s ear. “Tell me your name.”

“I can’t. Don’t know it,” Vecchio said lazily.

“That’s what I wanted to hear.” Ray got up and zipped his jeans.

Vecchio stood, too, and pulled up his pants, buttoning them. He seemed cagey and watched Ray for a long time. Ray smirked and gave him a big cocky grin. "Best head in the West, baby. That's what they tell me."

Whatever Vecchio was looking for, he didn't find it, because a shadow crossed over his face and he turned away to grab his shirt.

"I better go," he said, intent on getting the sleeves turned right side out. His voice was distant. "It's been a real trip, Kowalski. I always knew it would be."

Ray frowned and tried to figure out what he'd missed, because as far as he knew, this was a fucking fantastic night and he was hoping there'd be a lot more like it in their future. Then it clicked. That thing Vecchio was after that took Ray by surprise. Something Ray never really acknowledged (admittedly because his dick had been in charge at the time), and something he sure as hell never told Vecchio he wanted, too. This wasn’t the first time his flip attitude had given someone the wrong idea, and he supposed it wouldn’t be the last, but he’d taken it for granted that Vecchio knew better.

He muttered, "Yeah, I _oughtta_ be kicked in the head."

"What?"

"I said, I thought you told me we had all night." Ray moved in on him and pulled the shirt out of his hands. "You should stay awhile."

Vecchio straightened up and cocked his head, defiance etched in every line of his body. After a long moment, he said, "What was this to you, Kowalski?"

"It was a hell of a start," Ray told him.

Vecchio paused, and the clouds lifted a little, but it wasn't the realization Ray was looking for.

The CD started over and the same song they began with played softly in the background. Ray pulled one of Vecchio's arms around his waist, and took the other in his hand. "Come on, dance with me."

Vecchio moved like molasses and he studied Ray carefully, but the heat was back in his gaze and he looked hopeful. Ray kissed him with all the intent and promise he could muster, and said, "Okay?"

"Yeah," Vecchio nodded with a slow smile as he picked up the step Ray was leading. "Yeah, okay."

They danced to the end of the song and into the next, until they were loose and easy, and pressed tight together. “Yeah,” Vecchio repeated, “this is okay. This is good.”

 

 


End file.
